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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28799805">High Tide</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LigeiaMaloy/pseuds/LigeiaMaloy'>LigeiaMaloy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Stardew Valley (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Gore, Not Beta Read, Slow Romance, borrowed only a bit of the setting and the wizard from stardew, mermaid au, not much more</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:26:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,044</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28799805</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LigeiaMaloy/pseuds/LigeiaMaloy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hank Anderson left his old life behind to escape his grief and sorrows. His new life mostly consists of fishing, pleasant chats with his new friend, the local wizard, and escaping the village communities friendly attempts to socialize. All in all, he is content and, maybe for the first time, at peace. He should have known, however, that the world is always full of the unexpected, especially in an area were wizards and nature spirits are nothing out of the ordinary. But really, mermaids? Was is this, a fairy tale? Well, he certainly is no prince in shining armour as far as he's concerned. Then again, that injured mermaid with the pretty face who just snapped after his hand is in a lot of distress but definitely not a damsel.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hank Anderson/Connor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prolog</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Yo! Back at it again, another AU.</p><p>This one is special, though! This was meant to be my contribution to the reverse big bang 2019. Unfortunately, circumstances made it difficult for my big bang partner and me to work on our parts and finish them in time for the deadline, so, we decided to put everything on hold and continue when things got a little more relaxed.</p><p>Now, here's where I fucked up.</p><p>Hey! Hey! M! Do you see this? Do you still follow me here? Yes? If you see this! I'm sorry! I lost your email with your new contact info before archiving it! If you remember me, the prompt, and this story, mind contacting me?<br/>I changed my tumblr name, <a href="https://ligeia-maloy.tumblr.com/">here it is!</a> So, if you tried to reach out and suddenly couldn't find me anymore, that's the reason. </p><p>The story isn't finished because I thought of a few changes we haven't talked about and I don't want to just do it without your consent, after all, this was your prompt!</p><p>Sorry for this weird author's note, everybody else. Hope you enjoy what's there :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>This was the worst outcome. He had been warned. The waters had been too calm and they were too close to the land. He darted around a rock. Beastly thing, large enough to cost him a valuable second to swim past but too small to hide behind. He flinched as his tail fin slapped against the hard stone - he had taken the curve too tightly. There was no time for that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His heart hammered in his chest and his lungs began to burn, his sore gills struggled to filter enough oxygen from the water around him. Frantically, his eyes searched the bottom for a speer. A sunken tree. Anything he could quickly turn into a weapon. For the first time in the history of the merfolk, one of them was in need of trash but once again, the two-legged monstrosities let him down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He bit his lip until he tasted blood, quickly swallowing it. Dammit, what a rookie mistake, as if he had hatched just yesterday! He fought the urge to turn around, he sensed the presence of the- what was this monster? No time to think about it. It was bigger than him, teeth large as knives, and it was hungry for merman. And, to his horror, a fast swimmer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tried to listen to his surroundings but swimming as fast as he could himself, all he heard was his blood rushing through his veins and around him, the water of the sea was bellowing like a waterfall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If he only had stayed with his tribe, far away from the landmass! Their number would make up for the lack of size against this thing, and the vegetation would have offered more places to hide.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He almost crashed headlong into another rock but he was too overjoyed to think about it. Out of breath, fin and gills hurting, he slithered around the rock and pressed tightly against the stone. Yes! It was large and high enough for him to take cover! The noise calmed down. He held perfectly still, allowing the water around him to settle, and it still moved.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thing was still close.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was chewing on his hurting lip, wishing he had listened to his godmother. She had told him to not wander off on his own. To stick with his peers, teaching them to do better instead of standing out and that the day when his ego would be his demise was closer than he thought and that there were worse fates than the two-leggers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If he had only understood how close and how much worse! He closes his eyes, the back of his head pressed against the stone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Please. I need to go home. I need to talk to her. She has to know what kind of monster this is. She knows everything!</span>
  </em>
  <span> He had seen large creatures. Sharks that are usually docile unless anyone came to close to them or their breeding grounds. Octopi twice his size that, fortunately, had never developed a taste for the flesh of his kind. And then there was that giant squid that once had a glimpse at them and returned to the dark depths of the sea before his mind had a chance to fully grasp its enormous size. He still shuddered, his body would never shake off its aura of ancient age.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thing he encountered on his search for prey looked like it belonged back into the deep sea as well. The ugly, bloodthirsty bastard child of a lizardfish and lingcod, with an extra row of teeth of an angler thrown into the mix. And its mean eyes. Only, they weren’t blind, they were sharp and sly and he had felt their glare burn into his neck since the moment the hunter became the prey.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Haha. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He had never understood the appeal of irony. His godmother always teased him that he was too serious and that his unnatural skills as a darting swimmer came at the cost of a sense of humour. Haha. Just wait until he told her what happened today.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was quiet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The story of how he had almost become the breakfast of the ugliest fish monster in the sea.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The water didn’t move.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In all the seven seas. Well, that came at a cost, too, he had to admit he had been careless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sea was silent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His heart was calmly beating. His gills still hurt but breathing was easy. Everything would be all right.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly, barely causing a ripple, he peeked around the rock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nothing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He smiled. Then he screamed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From the other side, sharp teeth shut down, impaling the tender flesh of his left arm with the pain of a thousand sharp needles. The water between them turned red.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hank opened his eyes and looked at his hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pale and rough from working in his garden, dirty from digging in the soft soil. No trace of blood. As if the fateful night had never happened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And yet, the remainder of his loss was right in front of him and would still be here when he was long gone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sadness didn’t leave much strength for a smile, thus, Hank Anderson didn’t smile when he wiped a smudge of dried soil from his son’s gravestone. He stopped when he touched the year of his death. Had it really been six years already? Had Cole really been dead as long as he had been alive? Is this how he was going to measure time from now on, for the rest of his own life? Seven years since his death? Ten years? Two times longer in his grave than in his father’s life?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hank sighed and focused on the little flowers in front of him. He had planted the pansies two weeks ago, yellow and purple, Cole’s favourite colours. Hank’s mother used to tell him and his father that she’d take pansies over roses any day. Pretty without being pretentious. Delicate in looks but sturdy. Fun and easy to please.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But in spite of his best efforts, the flowers looked as sad and tired as he felt. What had he done wrong? He scratched his grey beard, resisting the temptation to air his frustration by interrogating the damn plant. He was still the new guy in the valley. He didn’t want to stand out as weird. Although, in the last two years here, he had certainly encountered weirder things than a grumpy man ordering some flowers to share their problems with him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The air became warm but only in front of him. A gentle light surrounded the small petals and Hank could watch how the earth dried in front of his eyes. As sudden as it had been there, the light was gone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope you don’t mind a little assistance, my boy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hank looked up, knowing very well who was standing next to him before he saw him. A crooked smile appeared on his face. Talking about weirder things.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no, it’s fine. Thank you, Rasmodius.” Hank stood up, feeling his spine crack back into its upright position. Damn, the reminders that he wasn’t twenty any more were becoming more painful with every year. But eventually, he stood and shook the wizard’s strong hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The villagers have complained too much about the last summer heat,” the wizard said, glancing at the grey sky. “Now the spirits are teasing us with the rainiest early summer in eleven years. We have to show them our respect or we’ll have to expect flooded basements before fall arrives.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh-huh.” Hank nodded, squinting at the clouds. He still wasn’t sure what to think of the whole spirit talk - or rather, in his heart, he was sure but his brain had to catch up - but he definitely agreed with the forecast. There would be more rain today.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t burden yourself with the weakness of the little ones.” The wizard pointed at the flowers. “No matter how much sunlight and warmth they craved, it isn’t for you to control the weather. Very few can.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hank shot a sceptical look at him, suddenly, not all to certain his friend was only talking about the almost dying flowers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Few, you say. And you’re one of them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That I am.” The wizard stroke over his beard which was of such a weird, rich black that it shimmered purple in his dark face. His hair, braided and kept down in a thick ponytail, was of the same colour. Weird, weirdo, those had been the words Hank would have used to describe him when they first met. A tall man of undefinable age, wearing black robes and a black had adorned with golden symbols and who usually went simply by ‘The Wizard’. Hank had accepted that city or countryside, he wasn’t meant to escape the oddballs. Until he understood that the wizard was, indeed, a wizard with magical powers, and then everything made too much sense to really think of him as weird and was glad he could call this man a friend. Despite his occasional concerns of how powerful the wizard was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Within reason, of course.” Rasmodius smiled and Hank didn’t suspect for the first time that he could read minds if he wanted to. Or maybe he was just good at reading faces. “If I used these powers, say, to intervene with the fate of a human, we’d have to deal with worse problems than a few rainy days. But a moment of sunshine for a flower - even Mother Nature’s laws aren’t that merciless.” He chuckled, warm light flickering around his fingers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sometimes, it’s easy to forget that death isn’t the worst consequence we can suffer, not by far.” Hank realized he was mimicking the wizard’s gesture. Fortunately, they were alone, otherwise, they’d give an odd sight. A pair of weirdos, stroking their beards in unison. He shoved his hands into his jacket.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not by far.” The wizard nodded and put a hand on Hank’s shoulder. “Let’s not dwell on these things today, they’re too heavy for this light rain to wash them away. Come, my friend, walk with me. After all, we’re on a graveyard. A new magical adventure might be only one tombstone away!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The wizard was a nice fellow and the only real friend Hank had bothered to make since he moved into the valley. Yet, he wasn’t too sure he wanted to embark on a magical journey with him. Especially if it began on a graveyard. But the wizard’s odd dignified optimism was good for him, so he laughed and followed him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anything in mind?” Hank asked with mocking enthusiasm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That won’t be necessary. We’ll know it when we see it. And so will you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hank frowned at the change in his tone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s that supposed to mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who knows. Well, I do, but you know I can’t share all my wisdom with you mortals, my boy.” The wizard laughed and for the moment, Hank really felt like a boy next to the man who claimed to have walked more than a lifetime on this planet. Hank hated the feeling when he was a kid and he hated it now. After many years as a city cop, he didn’t like things he couldn’t grasp and put in neat little boxes labelled ‘experience’, ‘reason’, and ‘scientifically proven’.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just promise me, my young friend, to give me a call when you encounter your miracle. I’ve seen many things in my time and I’d hate to miss out on the few I haven’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah.” Hank snorted, the wizard’s haughty smirk convincing him the oldtimer was pulling his leg. Maybe to cheer him up, maybe out of boredom. He couldn’t tell with those magical beings. They filled the rest of their walk with worldly topics. The ivy loved the rain and that after the last storm, the fish were biting better than on most sunny days.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, here we are,” Hank said. It was close to noon when they reached the graveyard’s rusty gate. “Screw this weather. Now I need a shower and change before I get to work.” He shuddered, pulling his jacket tighter around him but it was already soaked and didn’t offer any comfort.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, yes, it’s market day tomorrow, isn’t it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hank didn’t bother to answer, the wizard knew the weekly events better than he did. He had his suspicions that the guy memorized everyone’s daily schedule or if he didn’t, he had other methods to know.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well then, my friend, may you have a good catch!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks. And if I happen to lure the Kraken out of the depths of the ocean, I’ll let you know. You can help me get it on land.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They shared a laugh and shook hands, then, Hank left for his not all too magical quest for dry clothes and his fishing equipment.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Hook, Line, and...Bloody Fairy Tales?!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading the first chapter and coming back! So happy to see that the fandom is still alive and open to AUs :) </p>
<p>This chapter has blood and detailed description of injuries. Not horror-movie gory, I think, but also not sugarcoating anything.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Hank had opened a fishing store in the valley more out of boredom than necessity. There was no idea or plan behind it. He had bought the small wooden house with two floors because it was cheap and secluded, upstream the river, between the core of the village and the mountains. With only three TV channels and wonky internet that demonstrated not everything from the good old times was better, he had found himself more and more often sitting at the riverbank, holding a simple fishing rod with his feet and a book in his hands. As with everything he caught an interest for, his knowledge of his new hobby quickly grew, he upgraded his equipment, sold old rods and tools, bought new, and one day, he had enough fish and crayfishes to open his own little stand on the weekly market day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was the beginning of Rods &amp; Baits &amp; Results, his small store that he ran from his home’s former guest room. He received a good pension from his former job as a cop, and the compensation hadn’t been anything to sneeze at. He was set up for a comfortable, modest rest of his life, therefore, he didn’t depend on the income from the store. But it was nice to have and allowed him to invest in even more expensive equipment and books. He had chosen his new home away from the village for a reason but having an occasional chat with the townsfolk was pleasant and the smell of fish rarely kept them long enough to annoy him. In a way, he had found his own perfect spot of paradise, if only he had still his son to share it with. Cole had been an energetic, rambunctious little chap, he’d have loved to grow up running loose between trees and fields. If only, if only.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it was Sunday, early afternoon, and he had prescribed himself a routine to stop him from the path of self-destruction he’d walked before he moved to the valley. He could miss his boy. He’d visit him twice a week, just sitting there in silence and allowing the grief to eat him away. But once he got up and left the graveyard, no guilt-trips. No drinking himself senseless. No playing and pointing with the barrel of his gun. Just him, fish, and solitude.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, after the last few years, he should have known that he could forget about the latter when fishing at the beach. The season and weather promised a good haul of red snappers but of course, the rain wouldn’t be enough for some villagers to stay in their comfy homes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hank grunted a greeting when the wife of the grocery guy waved at him and continued to pack his equipment. She was the fourth to interrupt him and three always being a charm, he had decided it was time to move to another spot. Fortunately, she wasn’t up for a longer chat either but gladly bought the two red mullets he had caught for dinner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still not in the mood to take chances today, he walked away from the beach but instead of taking the road that led to his home, he took the west road, out of the village and into the forest. Ah, yes, maybe he should have picked up woodcutting as a hobby, the silence between the trees was serene. He inhaled the scent of young pines and moss and the big city with its concrete fields and steel towers became a memory as vague and distant as a dream.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then again, if he had chosen the path of a lumberjack, he’d cut the branch he was sitting on, almost literally. No, no, things were good the way they were, given the circumstances.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He marched through the woods, listening to the rustle of the wildlife and the rain dripping from bright green leaves. It was a solid twenty-minute-walk until he took a downtrodden path that led him out of the forest and towards the cliffs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hank took a deep breath. The salt of the sea mixed with the earthen aroma of the forest, two worlds clashing in peaceful, natural harmony.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next part was less harmonic. He wasn’t sure if anyone was aware of the place he was heading toward to, he had discovered it by accident when roaming the woods about two years ago. If anyone was aware, they either didn’t care much in general and certainly not at all in this weather, for good reason. At the foot of the cliff was a narrow stripe of land, calling it a beach would be like calling a herring a megalodon. It was more pebbles than sand and with the cliff casting its shadow over it during the sunny hours of the day, it didn’t have much appeal for getting a tan. The worst was the way down on days like this. There was only one narrow path and whoever carved the uneven, askew steps into the stone had probably been drunker than Hank on his worst days.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The rain added to the fun. One inattentive step would turn the makeshift stairway into a slide with a stonewall and a broken neck awaiting him at the end of the ride instead of a silly picture.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hank, always a believer of challenges making the man, juggled his bag and rod from one hand to the other as he felt his way along the stone for extra balance, slowly setting one foot in front of the other. It was these kinds of exercises which allowed him to stay fit while maintaining his definitely-not-twenty-anymore silhouette.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Two more steps and his feet were back on firm ground. Hank exhaled, only now becoming aware of his tension as it left his body. There he was, finally, at his own little secret spot, a bay hidden beneath the cliffs. It was dark here in the shadows but he was also protected from the winds which made the chill temperature bearable. With only one narrow opening to the sea, Hank didn’t expect fancy or large catches but the last few times he’d been here, he went home with a respectable amount of herrings and anchovies, enough to can a good lot and sell them. Not the worst price to pay for finally being alone and looking forward to a peaceful afternoon, just him and nature and his fishing rod between them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He spotted a rock at the far end. Perfect, that should serve him well as a seat. He walked towards it, gravel and sand grinding under his soles. He squinted. The rock had a weird oblong shape, something about it didn’t want to fit in the scenery. It was almost as if…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hank dropped his equipment. Without another moment of hesitation, he ran towards it. Just when he began to wonder if a dolphin or an oversized tuna stranded here, realization struck him like thunder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was a human! Oh, fuck, who of the villagers was it? What if it was a corpse? This would be the end of his secret spot, it would always be that one place where a dead body was washed ashore, goodbye, peaceful solitude.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At the same time, he felt horrible for his thoughts. This was a human life, one of those had sworn to protect, a duty he had always followed with honest passion and the first thing he was thinking of was that a place he didn’t even own might be taken away from him. Like a stupid toy. He had really let himself go after his son’s death, not just physically.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey! Can you hear me?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck, please be alive! </span>
  </em>
  <span>He dropped to his knees, paying no attention to the tiny, sharp stones poking through his pants. His police instincts kicked in. Male. Probably late twenties, Caucasian, long brown hair. From a first glance, this wasn’t any of the villagers. Also, none of them would be so foolish to go for a swim in this weather.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He put a hand on the man’s back, fighting the impulse of jerking it away when he touched the smooth skin. Cold as ice. His hopes sank. Nobody this cold could ever be alive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not your lucky day, huh? Poor guy.” Gently, he moved his hand under the man’s shoulder and turned him around, a task that turned out surprisingly difficult. This guy with those slim shoulders was heavy! Finally, he had him lying on his back. This felt wrong, like he had set more in motion than he was supposed to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, everything happened at once.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A faint, pained groan from the man’s lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blood coloured Hank’s fingertips red.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There were no legs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the…?!” Hank dropped on his ass, holding his hand as far away as possible. His eyes wide open, he stared at the dark scales of what appeared to be a giant fish. Only it wasn’t a fish, it was that guy’s legs! No, where the legs were supposed to be! If he hadn’t a tail.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the fuck... Mermaid?!” Hank slapped himself, leaving a bloody streak on his cheek and beard. The image went not away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hank, you old fuck, if you haven’t gone completely mad, this is a mermaid,” he muttered to himself, his voice grounding the sight in reality. Fingers shaking, he carefully touched the tail. Cold and smooth. He put his flat hand on it. This couldn’t be. Mermaids only exist in fairy tales.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And yet, he had once sold a bucket of trouts to a shadow figure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he was friends with a wizard who could conjure enough sunlight to help tiny flowers grow on rainy days.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuck this, he was Hank Anderson. Lieutenant, early retired. And this was a fucking mermaid… man… and he was bleeding!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His reality settled and he crawled closer. It was hard to see the arm and shoulder under the layer of blood. Hank wondered if the guy was so cold and pale thanks to the blood loss but that question had to wait.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He got up and brought his bag. Fortunately, he never left the house without a first aid kit. He quickly picked what he needed to clean the wound. The water should have washed it away, so he assumed that after whatever happened to the guy, he swam here and dragged himself on land. Or he was brought in by the high tide, that was also a possibility. If he hurried to stop the bleeding, he might have a chance to ask him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh! Christ, who did you piss off?” Skin and flesh of the upper arm and shoulder were torn. Damn, this would take more than his basic skills, which weren’t much more than putting a band-aid on a scrapped knee and cleaning a stab or bullet wound. Anything more complicated he had always left to mother nature or the professionals. And it looked like the open wounds weren’t the only problem. At closer inspection, he noticed thin, sharp spines sticking in the flesh. Did this guy swim into an underwater porcupine? If those existed - but frankly, it wouldn’t surprise him. Whatever the origin of those spines was, they had to hurt badly because the moment Hank carefully touched them, the merman groaned again in agony.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He put a firm pressure bandage around the upper arm which stopped some of the bleeding but he had no idea what to do about the shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess you don’t have the number to the mermaid ER?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At that moment, he woke up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hank froze, staring at brown eyes that grew wider and wider as they stared back at him. A scream pierced through Hank’s ears and right into his brain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before Hank could react, sharp teeth closed around his hand and cut into his flesh. The second scream was his own.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, okay, calm down.” Hank hissed through his teeth and it was not exactly clear if he was speaking to the creature or to himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck, what if he’s venomous? And who’d die first?</span>
  </em>
  <span> He clenched his jaws tightly. His brain was not helpful and that was something he couldn’t afford right now. He had to free his hand and to stop this guy from bleeding to death.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m here to help you. In case you haven’t noticed, your arm’s pretty wrecked. Who are you, do you have a name? Do you understand anything I’m saying?” Hank didn’t expect the creature to let go so he could give him an answer, that would have been too easy. But he seemed to notice that someone was talking to him, the frantic movement of his eyes slowed down until he stared at Hank.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Name’s Hank, Hank Anderson. I live here. I run a fishing shop.” Well, if the creature understood him, maybe that wasn’t the wisest thing to say. “But I only sell rods, baits, and fish. No mermaids. Frankly, I’ve never seen one.” He spoke calmly and forced himself to smile. There was this thing - when humans, culprits and victims alike, panicked, speaking with a steady, friendly voice was helpful but it wasn’t a good idea to overwhelm them with too much input and questions. Dogs in a panic, however, didn’t care about what was said and a good ol’ rambling in a reassuring voice could work wonders on them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unfortunately, he had no idea what applied to mermaids but he was positive that he would rather offend this guy by giving him the animal treatment than losing his hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Still raining, lovely, eh? Does the rain bother you guys? How many of you are there anyway?” He kept talking, said whatever his mind spat out, and used his free hand to move it under the guy’s chin and grabbed his jaw. He quickly found the joint and applied firm, on-point pressure on both sides.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hallelujah!” He groaned in pain and relief as his hand came free. Thank god that worked!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The guy was at least as surprised as him and stared at him with wide, bewildered eyes, obviously needing a moment to process what just happened. The moment didn’t last long. Hank wiped his bleeding hand on his pants and held both hands up and smiled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m gonna help you, okay? I’m not gonna harm you.” He’d have liked to add that he wasn’t going to hurt him but fuck, with a wound like that, the most careful hands couldn’t do anything without causing pain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was when the creature snapped out of his confusion. He made a noise that hurt in Hank’s ears and rolled around his axis to throw himself back into the water. Or that was the plan. As soon as he moved his shoulder, he screamed. The good hand grabbed the torn arm in a reflex and he collapsed on his back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck.” Hank was over him, getting more desperate by the second. It was a miracle the guy hadn’t bled to death yet and he had no clue what he could do to help, starting with how to explain to him that he wanted to help. The head shot up, teeth bared, and Hank had to press him back down to avoid being bitten a second time. “Great, doubt that got my intentions across. How can I make you understand? How when we don’t speak the same language?” Hank sighed, his heart aching as he slowly had to accept that this fascinating creature would die and that he could do nothing to prevent it. In fact, his presence made everything worse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wish Ras was here. Pretty sure he knows what to do. Damn wizard, never around when you need him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“About time, my friend. I was beginning to worry you’d never call me,” an amused voice spoke up behind him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ras!” Hank jolted around. “Fuck, I’ve never been happier to see you! I came here, and I saw him, and he’s badly injured, and a mermaid. A fucking mermaid! Please tell me that you know about them and how to treat him! Fuck…” He had to let go of the guy’s shoulder and only now realized that no attack followed. The mermaid was lying on his back, his eyes almost closed, his chest heaving. From his throat came rattled breathing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey! Stay with us, okay? We gonna help you!” Hank gently patted his cheeks when he felt a hand on his shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think it is I who should help him.” The wizard smiled down at him, composed as always. “I’ll appreciate your moral support but I’d prefer you give it from the sideline.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hank, never one to argue whenever he was offered a way out of a situation that mismatched his skills, made room for his friend. He sat down a few steps away, never leaving them out of his sight. He was still processing the situation. A mermaid, a very real, very bitey mermaid. What was this place that allowed fairy tales to become reality? Well, only that things didn’t look like a fairy tale ending for this merguy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can help him, right?” Hank watched closely as the wizard’s hands moved over the bleeding mess but he didn’t grasp what he was actually doing. “I’m sure there’s some kind of heal-the-mermaid spell?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The wizard laughed softly, which Hank took as a good sign. Then again, his friend was ancient. Hank had witnessed more than one kind, empathic guy go through a concerning transformation after working in the morgue for a few months. One death could make a man cry. Many made him laugh. Hank wasn’t faint of heart himself and had learned to be very selective with his empathy but sitting here and doing nothing was unnerving. He had questions, dammit! And it didn’t help that the wizard was ignoring him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least the breathing of the guy had calmed down. He looked still pale but what did Hank know, maybe mermaids always looked like this, they didn’t exactly go to the beach for a tan, did they? He ran his fingers through his hair. How the hell was he supposed to know? Also, his hand still hurt. At least, the red remained local and he could still move his fingers. So no poison, that was something. Hopefully, cleaning and dressing the wound later was still soon enough to avoid an infection. He had no clue how to explain to the doctor what happened and he sure wouldn’t blame a random stray mutt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He watched the wizard a bit longer. His legs were beginning to hurt from staying in the same position for too long and he feared his back’s opinion once he’d stand up again. Yet, he had no idea how much time had passed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was about to ask the wizard again when his friend sat up with a satisfied grunt, rolled his shoulders, and cracked his knuckles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’ll live. It’s a nasty wound and I’m not a healer but I could do enough to quicken the healing process. Ironically, the strong bleeding saved him from an infection which saved his life. Glad you didn’t call me any later, it was just a matter of minutes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tsk! How was I supposed to know I could summon you with a half-assed thought of you?” Hank crouched closer. The mermaid’s face was almost peaceful and Hank thanked god for the moving chest or he would have thought he had passed away. He looked at the arm. There it was, in all its gory glory. Most of the blood was washed away. The skin was torn and a good chunk was missing, leaving the muscles exposed. But at least they connected.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I also set the bones,” the wizard explained, pointing at the arm. “Pieces were missing but I succeeded in initiating their regrowth. It’ll take some time and the kid’s expecting a painful healing process but that’s all I can do for him right now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Which is a lot more than I could do,” Hank muttered, “or any human doctor. Thanks, friend.” He put a hand on the wizard’s shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All in a day’s work,” the wizard said with a smug sense of satisfaction. “But it’s not over yet. We have to wake up our new friend and explain to him what happened. And that he’s stranded for a while if he wants to keep his arm. Not an easy task to look forward to, judging from your hand.” He eyed Hank’s wound with an amused smirk. “Mermaids. Wonderful creatures. Magical. Smart. And as stubborn as your regular human.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I always pictured them kinda artsy and serene.” Hank squinted at the pale face. It looked human enough. If he hadn’t experienced it himself, he’d have a hard time to believe how ferocious these smooth, almost boyish features could become.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Some of them are but fortunately, I’ve found most mermaids to be quite reasonable. Well then!” The wizard straightened his back and shook his fingers. “Hank, you stay there. I might need you to restrain our friend but watch out for any teeth. I’ll wake him up now.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He opened his eyes and the world was a blur. And very, very wrong. He was lying on something hard and his skin felt dry. This wasn’t water!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh…” His head hurt and he didn’t feel well on his stomach at all. The kind of queasy that would be worse if he had eaten lately. And his arm… something was very weird about his arm. He blinked a few times but his vision still took its time to return. There was this thing in the water.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He jolted up. The monster! Blood! His arm! A human!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He touched his arm and gagged from the sudden pain and from disgust. This didn’t feel like his arm at all! It was wet and fleshy and all wrong!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first thing he saw was fiery red strings of muscles twitching where skin was supposed to be. His eyes rolled up and the world was getting foggy again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, kid! Stay with us!” A hand slapped him. It wasn’t a strong hit and it wasn’t painful at all but maybe his body was too busy to not drive him insane from the pain in his arm that he wasn’t able to feel anything else.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you hear me? What’s your name?” the voice asked him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Name? </span>
  <em>
    <span>What is your name?</span>
  </em>
  <span> His throat was to dry to talk. Instead, he forced himself away from his arm and looked up. A human? He tensed up. The human was still there! He turned around, looking for a way to escape. No, there was another human, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> was the one from before! Grey! The one who spoke had weird black-bluish hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Name?” he croaked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, my boy. You can call me Ras. This is my friend Hank. He found you and called me to save your life.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Save my life? Humans?!</span>
  </em>
  <span> He barely glanced at the grey one. Humans were dangerous, and if two found him, his life was over anyway. They’d keep him in a small, filthy tank and expose him to other humans or dissect him in one of those labs! Whatever their plans for him were, he’d have been better off dead in the stomach of the monster!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Water gently splashed over half of his tale, the rest of his body was on land. More water was falling from the sky but it wasn’t enough to make him comfortable. His skin was itching, a sign that he’d been out of his environment for too long. The smell of blood turned his stomach, especially when he realized it was his own. The sand around him was red. He thought of the long teeth and how they cut through his flesh. He barely remembered his escape, only the pain, the red mist around him as he felt how his arm was almost torn off, and how he managed to claw out one of the terrifying eyes… that was probably what saved his life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked past the bluish human. He had no recollection of swimming to the bay. It was almost entirely cut off from the ocean. Where the monster was still lurking, blind on one eye, and angrier than ever.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shuddered. He couldn’t stay here. He had to get away from humans and find his people and warn them! The sooner they departed the better! He tried to roll around, careful to not move his arm more than necessary.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The grey human shouted at him and held him by his good shoulder, the hand warm and rough against his skin. He pulled away, hissing at him. He didn’t understand one word he said. That’s when realization set in. The other human was speaking in the universal language that most intelligent, non-human beings understood. So he wasn’t human after all, just the other?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He doesn’t seem to speak human, Hank. And my friend doesn’t speak your language, sorry.” The bluish one pulled a flask from his purple coat, opened it, and dripped a dark blue, oily liquid on his throat. A pleasant, warm feeling spread through him and it was like something in his throat loosened. Then, the warmth crept to his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh…” He held his forehead when a piercing light shot through his brain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Try again, Hank,” a voice said and although he still understood it clearly, the words felt all wrong and unfamiliar.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh… well… I just said he’s getting himself killed if he goes back into the water.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He peaked through his fingers. The grey one - Hank? - scratched his head and looked at the other man with a confused expression.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you?” he whispered, shrinking away from the sound of his own voice. He’d never spoken another language than that of his own kind and the noise that was coming from his throat sounded like he wasn’t supposed to be capable of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m just a humble wizard with a degree in forest magic and four elemental linguistics.” The wizard bowed, then he pointed at Hank. “Hank’s a human.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks for the glowing introduction. And he can speak English now why?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because I also happen to be a qualified potion master. Don’t waste time asking the wrong questions, my friend. The more important one is, what can we do to help our young friend here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He listened to the exchange with growing wonder. They almost talked to each other like his own people. Weird, that those croaks and grunts allowed them to form complex sentences with meaning. But he had no time for this!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have to let me go!” He yelled. “I need to go back to my tribe! We’re leaving in two days and-” He broke off. He had already told them too much. They caught him, what would stop them to catch the others if they knew they were around? He had heard stories about wizards, they were different from humans but not very much. Some were good, others were greedy and evil in their own way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Back? Out there, with an open wound like that? Forget it, boy. You’ll end up as fish bait!” the man named Hank said, shaking his head violently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But-!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s your name, young friend? Do you have one for the surface?” the wizard cut him off. He blinked at him a few times. Sure, he knew what a surface name was. His grandmother had one since some of her friends were land witches. He shook his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. I never saw any good in having one.” He pressed his lips together. He was offered one when he got old enough to visit the surface but human names were ugly, like humans.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see.” With a grave expression, the wizard stroke his beard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That won’t do. We can’t keep him… can’t keep calling you kid and boy all the time!” Hank raised his voice, impatiently waving his hand. “Trust me, kid, I get it, humans can be shit but it looks like you’re stuck with us for a while. You better think of something we can call you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not stuck here! I have to leave!” Fear took over his anger. They couldn’t be serious! He was not staying here, end of story. He growled, showing his teeth. They weren’t as big as those of most predatory marine animals, in fact, those of his kind resembled those of humans, but they were still pointer and sharper. “And now get out of my way!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tried again to flip his body around and roll towards the water, his cheeks burning, loathing every second of the undignified sight he offered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on, you must know that this isn’t a good idea.” Hank’s tone had changed. His low voice was suddenly calm, almost warm. He reached out to help him sit up but the merman hissed at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t touch me!” He raised his arm to slap Hank’s hand away and suddenly, the world became blurry. He had used his injured arm and raw pain shot from his shoulder through his whole body, paralyzing his chest. “Ugh…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Idiot,” Hank said but it didn’t sound harsh or mean. “Ras, how long until he can swim again?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I did what I could to connect bones and muscles and initiated the regrowth of missing tissue and skin. If he rests his arm, a week, maybe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Didn’t you say you weren’t a healer?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The wizard laughed, “Hank, if I were, he’d be out there instead of arguing with us. No.” He shook his head. “I sped things up but his body has to do the real work. I also cannot replace blood. He really needs to rest a few days.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m still here, you know.” He glared at the two men. Was he really stuck here? His mind began to see reason. If he couldn’t even swing his arm, how was he supposed to swim back to his people, let alone be fast enough to escape any possible dangers? Rationally, he knew better than pushing his luck. His heart, though, ached at the thought of staying in this shallow bay, with nothing left to do other than lying around. He couldn’t even swim to keep himself warm and it was getting cold…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry.” Hank ruffled through his hair and he wanted to snap at the insolent hand but what little fight he had left in him was gone. “Tired, hm?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s it to you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll feel less angry once you had a few hours of rest.” The wizard smiled at him but his face looked sorrowful. “But the bay won’t do. The sun never reaches the water here and a storm is coming up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll tear your limbs off if you drag me in a lab and-” He broke off when Hank put a hand on his good shoulder. Strange, he had expected humans to be warmer. He glared at him from the corner of his eye. The man looked as pale as he felt and he shivered. The rain was coming down harder. So humans were getting cold, too? But then, Hank smiled, and his whole face changed. Although the wrinkles around his eyes deepened, he looked a decade younger when he smiled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I have an idea. But I need your help, Ras. And you,” Hank pointed at him. “I need you to cooperate, okay? And no worries, nobody’s gonna end up as sashimi tonight.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hank, I must say, this was a stroke of genius!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hank was growing a few inches under the wizard’s blatant praise. Metaphorically, at least. In reality, every muscle was aching as he carried the merman. His knees were threatening divorce and his back contemplated killing him. Thankfully, once everything was set up, the wizard had teleported them right into the building that was built around the valley’s hot spring.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It didn’t help that the floor was slippery and he had to watch his step or he risked falling over the guy’s tail. Mother Nature had a dumb sense of humour when she made merpeople taller, or, rather, longer than humans. Damn, this guy seemed to be 70% tail. Pretty to look at, no doubt, with the dark scales, but a pain in the ass to carry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t grumble, my friend. Be grateful you didn’t have to carry him all the way up here.” The wizard knelt down and put a hand in the pool. Hank looked at him, a little jealous. He had been only once or twice to the hot spring, which looked more like a small, public pool from the outside. He was cold, everything ached, and he couldn’t think of anything nicer than soothing his pained muscles in the warm water.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The merman hadn’t said a word since he had lifted him up. He had been surprisingly docile and didn’t put up a fight, that was something. But he didn’t speak, didn’t answer questions, only stared at his hands. Hank let him be. He had noticed the flushed face and the whole situation was probably anything but fun for the guy. Hank hated it, too, when he depended on the help of others, even when they were his own kind, it didn’t take much imagination to know that it had to be ten times worse for this guy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All right.” The wizard stood up and nodded at the water with a satisfied smile. “I altered the salinity, it should be just like he needs it.” He turned to the merman. “I’m sorry, young man, the water will be warmer than what you’re used to. I assure you it won’t harm you. Indeed, I predict you’ll find it quite comfortable after what you’ve been through.” He smiled at Hank when the merman didn’t answer. “Hank, would you be so kind?” He gestured at the pool.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure, sure. One second.” Hank took a careful step toward the pool. Yeah, he had always aimed for helping those in need, hell, he had made a career out of it, but now, he was more than ready to get rid of this specific guy in need before the weight destroyed his joints. But how, that was the question. He couldn’t just toss him into the water. Or could he…? No. Put him down at the edge and let him slide in himself? Nah, thanks to that tail, the merman wasn’t able to sit up properly and he’d probably hurt him. Also, he didn’t want to lose his footing if he bent down. After thinking about it for another moment, he shrugged and just walked towards the stairs leading into the water. Praying he wouldn’t slip and fully clothed as he was, he went into the water.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Warmth wrapped around his legs and it was the most beautiful feeling in the world after this fucker of a day! A few more steps and the water reached his waist. The weight in his arms became lighter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I let go?” Hank looked down at the guy - who was still nameless and who refused to look back at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” And then he said something that Hank hadn’t believed he’d ever heard out of the merman’s mouth:"Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay! Here goes nothing!” He pulled his arms away and stepped back. With a splash, the merman was in the water, the large tail cutting through the surface. Hank moved back to the stairs and sat down. The merman circled the pool, fully submerged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“First time I was here,” Hank said, “I thought whoever built this place was mad. Why make a hot spring like a swimming pool. People go to hot springs to get soaked, not swim.” Soaked, like his clothes. The walk home would be pure horror in wet clothes and it’d be a miracle if he didn’t end up with the mother of all colds. His eyes followed the silhouette under the water. He barely used his arms, the movement of the tail and fins were enough. Pretty.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I agree, it’s an unusual design.” The wizard was standing behind Hank. He sounded tired. Hank had wondered before if the wizard’s powers were endless or if he had some kind of inner magic meter, mana, magic points, or something that would measure his magical energy, like in video games. Whatever it was, healing - or kickstarting the healing process - and preparing the hot spring for their guest apparently had taken a toll on him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There are rumours that in the past, merpeople and the humans of the valley were friends,” the wizard continued. “Who knows, maybe the mind behind this place built it with a very close friend in mind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, who knows.” Hank forgot about the bathhouse’s lore as soon as he heard it. He didn’t care much about this place’s past, not now. So, a real mermaid. The world was a crazy place. In moments like this, it was difficult to remain all grim and gloomy with life, death, and fate. There was a mermaid in a pool. It was hard to hate his existence when life was still full of wonders.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well then, my friend. I’ll have a last look at the glamour and then I’ll be on my way home. Will you be fine on your own?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure.” Hank waved over his shoulder and listened as the wizard walked away until the noise and any presence of him were suddenly gone. Without a doubt, the magic would be perfectly in place. They were lucky it wasn’t fall or winter, people rather went to the beach when the weather was fine than to the hot spring. But if anyone should get the idea to come here, they’d look at a damaged roof and a warning sign that promised all repairs would be done by the end of the season.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once Hank was at home, it was his job to call the mayor and tell him that he had been there when lightning hit the roof and in his shock, he had informed a repair company before he thought of informing anyone in town.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey…” A head emerged from the water in front of Hank.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey. You okay? Think you can stay here for a few days?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The merman flipped on his back, the tail fin hitting the water, splashing Hank. Geez. He wiped the salty water from his face. Not that it made much of a difference after being out in the rain and walking into the pool. The merman circled the basin again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not what I’m used too. And it’s so shallow,” he sighed when he was back. “But it’s fine. It’s just for a few days. And your friend was right, the warmth feels good,” the merman added sheepishly, as if he hated to admit those foolish humans hadn’t wronged him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s good to hear. Now just be careful with that arm, will ya?” Hank raised an eyebrow when, for the first time, the guy smiled. He really had a pretty face and it looked so much sweeter now that it wasn’t so pale and angry anymore.</span>
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<p>
  <span>“I don’t really have a choice. I hope it heals quickly.” He glanced at the wounded arm with an uneasy face. Hank understood how he felt, he himself was used to a lot of thanks to his line of work but this was the kind of mutilation he had usually only seen on corpses.</span>
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<p>
  <span>“I’m sure it will. Ras isn’t a doctor, or healer, as he said, but he knows what he’s doing.” And whatever the wizard had done to protect the wound from the water, it worked, to Hank’s relief. He had already seen himself coming up with an explanation at the general store and the real doctor’s office why he needed every spray can of liquid band-aid they had. But the wizard’s spell worked and water pearled off the arm like off invisible glass. That didn’t make the sight of contracting muscles any sweeter but whatever worked was fine with him. Hank yawned.</span>
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<p>
  <span>“I’m gonna go home soon, too. Need dry clothes and something to bite. Oh, reminds me. Are you hungry? What do you eat? And does it have to be a living fish?” He sighed gratefully when the merman shook his head. He had enough frozen fish to feed a dozen of these guys for the rest of the week and he could fix a few decent dishes and bring something back here later this night. But he didn’t feel like sitting down and fishing anymore, not today.</span>
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<p>
  <span>“I’m fine. I think I can eat pretty much anything. I’ve met others like me who told me about human food. As long as it isn’t too sweet it should be okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good. Well, I leave you to your temporary home.” Hank slapped his upper legs and stood up. He shuddered. Even here, in the warm hall, standing in wet clothes was uncomfortably cold. He was not looking forward to his walk home. Well, at least, the merman was in a better mood. He didn’t expect him to be happy about ending up here but he was far more pleasant to talk to when he didn’t hiss at him or bared his teeth. “I’ll come back later with something to eat.”</span>
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<p>
  <span>“Okay. Uh, thank you. And sorry for biting you.” Without waiting for Hank’s reply, he dived underwater and didn’t come up again. Hank watched him for another while, trying to burn the sight into his mind in case all this was revealed to be nothing but a dream the moment he walked outside, where an early summer storm was howling.</span>
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